Infinite Dreams of a Finite Planet

Operating with the mind that forever growth is all we need. We live on a finite planet but with infinite dreams; which makes sense, before we discovered and conquered it all, the world did seem infinite. It was quite infinite to our adventurous selves. It was only what, some hundred years ago that we gained our knowledge of it all? We still haven’t shifted the mind away from infinite growth, but we must if we want to be realistic of our survival. The planet only has so much, and we’ve already seen it all. Or no—we have not seen it all, far from it; but from what we’re using, where we’re living, and how we’re living, we have seen it all. Infinite growth is an impossibility. We need to slow down and learn to live within our bounds: a form of recycled living, or circular living. We have no more space to grow.

But we are addicted to it. Why is that? Well, just like how our societies were built on greed, so they were built on growth: two sides of the same coin. Greed and growth. We want it all; that is how we became it all. But now we must stop or we will no longer be at all. Humans have existed for so little time on this planet, a blink compared to all the other major species that once conquered. Maybe we will fizzle as fast as we arrived. It sure looks like we might. We are far too powerful for our small little brains. What will happen to us? Self-destruction it must: in one way or the other, self-destruction through ourselves explicitly or implicitly. Sadly, it seems too obvious a path.

We do not care to change until slapped in the face, until forced by life. That is how we all operate. Not a problem until it is. No future thinking around. We all love short-term gain. Pain in the future is the future; and that does not exist until it does. And it may not even, since all futures are but probabilities, not guarantees. It might not even happen as you say it will: maybe it will and maybe it won’t. Why stress when we have the present to live? We can almost never predict the future, right? And why stress? Let it be. It’s always been fine, we’ve always survived, nothing bad has ever happened—to me. It won’t be, quit your yapping. It’ll be fine.

Until it happens, to me. Then, then we shall do something about it. And why has no one done anything about it or prepared for it before times when it has yet to happen? Fools, the lot of them, fools. We are babies playing with rifles and missiles. When they all explode, surely it’ll be a big one. Will we be able to contain it all? Or perish amongst it all. Of nature, the most dangerous one. Only time will tell, I suppose. Maybe we’ll all die. But whatever, life is short-lived anyway, right? Let the future deal with it: future for the future, right? And the present for the present. It ain’t a problem now, well, not for me at least. Maybe we’ll all die, but I won’t be around to feel it, or see it, or deal with it. I’ll be dead or old. My life would have been lived, and I’m happy with how it’s been lived, right? Why change, so that a future where I’m not there will be better?

I’m happy where I’m at now, and I’ve already learned how to live now; now you want me to change? So that a future where I’m not will continue to have a future? A future’s future? Psh. Forget it. It’s all hocus-pocus. Rowdy business. The world has been fine and will continue to be fine. Existence is whack anyways. What even is existence? The thought of it all is crazy. You’re crazy. I’ll be dead soon enough, you’ll see. We’ll all see. Maybe it’s for the best. Existence. Who needs to exist? Not me, not you, not I. Let’s all exist, together as one. Good night.